Pomplemouse
by Darkside Omega
Summary: He had made one critical mistake. He had forgotten just what he was trying to consume. Only one would be the decided winner of this match, and both were determined to win... *Rated for disclaimer*


A/N- This story was inspired by two people. One was my friend, Tim, who was laughing at me in English class because I was the only person he'd ever seen wage a war with an inanimate object. It wasn't my fault. My compass kept stabbing me. The other was my cousin, Javier. We went to Canada for two weeks and whenever there was a lack of amusement he would exclaim one thing. "Pomplemouse."  
  
Disclaimer- The disclaimer got its ass kicked yesterday by a certain Blue Haired, Silver Eyed, Bounty Hunter FREAK. If you want to send it a get well note, just relay the message through me.  
  
  
  
Pomplemouse  
  
By Darkside Omega  
  
  
  
It was early. Far too early by most sane peoples' standards. But still, one fiery haired Gundam pilot was up. True, there may have been more than one pilot up, already training and exercising and whatnot. But George De Sand was not training. He was waging a war.  
  
An early riser by nature, George had combed and re-combed the once pristine kitchen for something consumable to be his breakfast. To his great dismay, the shelves were bare. Cursing the person who lacked the foresight to buy any food, George finally found something edible. Grabbing a spoon out of a nearby drawer, he sat down to the first meal of the day after an unnecessarily lengthy search.  
  
The fruit, by all standards, was perfect. It was large, and a nice peachy- red color, with no spots or blemishes. George cut it open. Inside, the contents sat, as usual, a mass of pink. George picked up his spoon and prepared to eat.  
  
He had made one critical mistake. He had forgotten just what he was trying to consume. His opponent knew that. Upon first contact with the spoon, it promptly let loose a stream of its stinging juice straight at his eyes. George toppled backward in his chair with an indignant yelp.  
  
Lying on his back and gazing up at the ceiling, George wondered vaguely if all breakfasts conspired together to try and kill him and whether he would have been better off sleeping in. Hauling himself to his feet, George recovered his spoon and righted his chair. Sitting down again, he prepared to dine at long last.  
  
Unfortunately, he had made another important mistake. He had forgotten one crucial factor.  
  
As soon as the spoonful of fruit made contact with his taste buds, it seemed that his entire mouth was shriveling and drying up. His eyes watered from the sheer unpleasant sourness of the fruit as he raced across the kitchen to dispose of this mouthful in the sink.  
  
After scrubbing his mouth clean and muttering curses in three different languages under his breath, George returned to the table and proceeded to dump the entire contents of the sugar bowl onto his rebellious breakfast. Again he seated himself, confident this time that he had won. George poked the fruit with his spoon.  
  
If it had been able to snicker, it would have. George's breakfast sprayed him in the eyes again.  
  
And so, once more, Neo France's fighter found himself staring up at the kitchen ceiling for the second time that morning. This was getting to be something of a ritual.  
  
A tick had developed in the normally calm George's right eye as he armed himself with an array of sharp utensils from various drawers. If George De Sand had ever been seen with a deranged look on his face, then this was it. He glared at his breakfast. As if in answer, it sat there on the table defiantly. Only one would be the decided winner of this match, and both were determined to win...  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Chibodee raised an eye as his battered looking friend came down the sidewalk.  
  
"What waffle iron did you tango with?"  
  
A far cry from his usual neat clothes and calm attitude, George was now covered from head to toe with what seemed to be dust, scratches, and fruit juice. Had Princess Maria Louise seen him now, she might not have recognized him.  
  
Feeling rage bubbling up inside of him at the thought of losing a fight with his breakfast, he managed to spit out one word before brushing past Chibodee.  
  
"Pomplemouse."  
  
  
  
~Owari~  
  
  
  
A/N- So...how was it? Review me please. Flames are welcome, but you must have a legitimate reason. Sorry if this is terribly OOC, but I only get the English dubs and I haven't seen many of those. But, I have to wonder why I get these spur of the moment things at one in the morning. No more caffinated mints for this little girl...And for those of you who don't know, "Pomplemouse" is French for "Grapefruit". Apparently, I am the only one crazy enough to write an entire story on grapefruit... 


End file.
